


Property

by theundeadsiren (rhoen)



Series: March 2015 [5]
Category: In the Flesh (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ancient Rome, Consensual Sex, M/M, Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-27
Updated: 2015-04-27
Packaged: 2018-03-26 02:38:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3833878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhoen/pseuds/theundeadsiren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sold into slavery, Kieren's pretty sure his life is only going get worse from here on in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Property

**Author's Note:**

> This is the fifth of ten fics I wrote last month. It is also the fiftieth ITF fic I have posted on AO3.
> 
> (First posted 15/03/15)

**You may not take this fic and edit or reupload it - in whole or in part - without my express permission. This includes translations.**

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Thank you for respecting my wishes

* * *

 

It was humiliating. Standing there completely naked, save for a plaque around his neck, Kieren was exposed to the scorching midday heat, and the even more blistering gazes of those walking past and eyeing up the 'stock', calculating if they were worth the asking price. Kieren was determined to live up to the negative traits listed on his plaque, and tried to make himself appear more trouble than he was worth, glowering furiously at those who cast their eye over him. It was tiring, though, and in the growing heat of the day watching as others were sold, the malnourishment and the fatigue from his transportation to the city were taking their toll. Everything hurt, and there was a weariness in his bones that even intense hatred couldn't alleviate, and just knowing that this was the beginning of the rest of his life as a slave...  
  
Another guy was moving through the market, and slowed by the slaves to look over the women up for sale. He wasn't particularly remarkable, and his clothing didn't speak of vast wealth nor lowly status, but Kieren couldn't help but watch as the brown-haired young man examined the women, the snake of a seller having materialised at his side to try and promote his 'stock'. All Romans were snakes, as far as Kieren was concerned, and while the brunet could pass as attractive, his physique hinting towards him being a labourer of sorts, he was still Roman. Kieren watched him with contempt, and then with dread as the guy turned away from the women and cast his eye over the men. He caught Kieren's gaze and held it unflinchingly, despite the fierce glower Kieren let show on his face, jaw set hard in defiance. It didn't seem to make a difference. The guy moved towards him, glancing over Kieren's exposed body briefly, and standing directly in front of him examining the plaque. He then looked up at Kieren again, his expression... his face was carefully blank, but something in his eyes set Kieren even more on edge; it wasn't cold or calculating, or even detached in the way Kieren had seen so far in people who glanced over the gathering of slaves, viewing them as nothing more than commodities. Leering looks he could understand, but what seemed like genuine interest...? He didn't want anyone to be interested in him. He'd been deliberately obstinate in the hope that people would pass him over in favour of a physically stronger, more docile slave, and it had worked so far.  
  
The slave trader was talking to the guy again, who had thankfully looked away from Kieren and was now glancing over the other slaves. Kieren couldn't help watch him as he did so, still scowling. The guy was just pretending to consider the others. Kieren's heart sank as he realised the guy's mind was already made up. He bristled, stiffening and suddenly forgetting his fatigue as the thought of fleeing entered his mind. He knew that this was inevitable, and he'd be sold here, or sold to the mines, but that didn't make it any easier. He was about to be bought, and the guy had already started discussing the price with the trader, haggling. Arguing his worth.  
  
And then he was sold. He was this guy's property, for less than the asking price hanging from his neck. As he was shifted down from the platform and given a tattered, rough garment to wear, he felt himself slump, defeated. He couldn't quite hold the glower in place, so lowered his gaze. Rationally, he knew there was nothing he could have done to stop himself being sold - he would have been punished and left to a worse fate - but he was still angry at himself for not having somehow done something more to prevent it, and he was angry at the guy for being content to settle for Kieren when there were other 'better' slaves he could have chosen. It didn't matter that he though he'd seen something more compassionate in the guy's gaze than anyone else had shown him: life as a slave was life as a slave. This guy was still a Roman.  
  
And then he was being led. Kieren watched his bare feet against the dusty street as he was steered through the marketplace, down sidestreets, into another market area of the city, through more narrow streets... At least the house they ended up in was cool, Kieren thought as he finally looked up at his new surroundings. It was a modest dwelling, spacious and light. But still a prison. He was told to undress and wash with the water provided, and couldn't think of anything to say in protest, so obliged. He was then given a different garment to wear - one that wasn't as threadbare and didn't chafe against his skin as roughly when he slid it on. His owner was watching him, still not having said more than he had to. He seemed to be a man of few words, and that suited Kieren just fine. When he was finished, the guy moved closer, a hand snaking round Kieren's back to try to pull him closer. He didn't go easily. In fact, Kieren was surprised to find that he didn't go at all. He wasn't forced. The pressure stopped and the guy let him go as Kieren resisted and scowled darkly in defiance, the move confirmed his suspicion that this guy didn't care which gender he took to bed. Just his fucking luck to have been bought by someone who would work him day and night.  
  
Someone who hadn't forced him, a part of his mind highlighted.  _Yet_ , the more realistic part countered, and the way his cheek was cupped by a large, work-worn hand just confirmed that. The guy would take what he wanted sooner or later, and Kieren glared as fiercely as he could at the guy as he was encouraged to look up to. The guy's expression seemed to have changed, and rather than the blank look he'd worn in the market, he seemed openly concerned, and maybe even a little hurt. He clearly wasn't used to anyone resisting him so openly. Good. Maybe he'd take Kieren back, or just... no, the guy had paid money for him, there was no way he would simply turn Kieren out onto the street; it wouldn't be that easy. At least he hadn't hit Kieren for his disobedience.  
  
"I'm in so much shit," his owner sighed, gently letting his hand fall from Kieren's cheek and stepping back before turning away. Kieren had barely begun to ponder those words (and then why he was bothering to care) before he was told to follow again.  
  
-  
  
It was quite soon clear why the guy was in trouble. Walking through a higher-class labourer's market, the healthy physique was explained when they stopped at a large carpenter's workshop, which clearly specialised in making furniture, and the guy greeted an older man Kieren took to be his father. The man was obviously highly displeased with his son's purchase. His owner - Rick - was carefully neutral as he justified his choice, his expression the same blank one he had worn in the market, giving no emotion away. Eventually, after listening to his son explain that he thought a pair of hands in the workshop would be more of benefit than a pair of hands in the home, the older guy gave a dismissive 'fine, your decision', which made it abundantly clear that it was not okay in the slightest. Apparently the father had to head out and see a customer, so told his son he might as well stay now he was there, leaving Kieren with the distinct impression that Rick wasn't even supposed to be working that day. But Rick did as he was told.  
  
Kieren was put to work fetching and carrying as Rick needed, unable to do anything more than that. He possessed no skills that would help him here. He hated the unworked wood, which was rough and left splinters in his skin, but it seemed that all Rick was doing was taking the wood and cutting it to lengths he seemed to know by heart. Kieren was then told which of the shelves he was to put them on, or what to fetch next. After an hour, Rick stopped, barely having broken a sweat. Kieren hadn't faired so well. He was sweltering, and completely exhausted. His hands felt raw from the touch of wood, his limbs ached, and his throat was parched. He closed his eyes, almost swaying on the spot as he realised he wasn't being worked hard at all.  
  
He felt Rick touch him, and flinched. A soft voice apologised, and he was led to get a welcome drink. As he gulped down the clear, cool water, Kieren looked over to find that Rick had produced half a loaf of bread from somewhere. Kieren just stared as it was held towards him, clearly being given. His hands weren't as slow on the uptake as his mind, and he grabbed it greedily, devouring it before it could be taken away.  
  
And that was it. They were back at work. This time, Rick was reworking the lengths he'd cut earlier, smoothing them and shaping them. Thankfully there wasn't much to do other than collect wood as instructed, and it took much longer for Rick to finish this next step than it did to cut the lengths, so Kieren found himself able to watch as Rick worked. At first, he didn't care, and ignored the other guy, but eventually found himself watching as the guy worked the wood into shape, smoothing and refining the surfaces into something that was much kinder to the touch. Kieren had never had a trade. He didn't know what it was like to know your work as instinctively as Rick obviously knew his. Perhaps Rick even loved it. Or maybe the way he carefully ran his hand over the wood was just him checking to see how smooth it was.  
  
Rick waited until his dad returned and he was dismissed before he made to leave. Kieren followed him hurriedly, unwilling to be left with the older man, who had given him the kind of glare that made Kieren's blood run cold. He was the kind of person who would go out of his way to remind Kieren of what he was, and of his place. Compared to him, Kieren would definitely rather be with Rick.  
  
Rick who, after turning Kieren over to the care of a female slave that belonged to the household, came and found him as darkness fell, ordering Kieren to follow him. He'd had a chance to clean himself upon returning from the workshop, and had been fed and allowed time to himself, but now that was over. He was expected to warm this guy's bed. It didn't matter how comfortable the bed was, Kieren didn't want it with this guy in it.  
  
Just as he had done so earlier, Kieren made that abundantly clear. As Rick moved closer, he had stiffened and taken half a step back. When Rick tried to kiss him, he turned his head away. Rick said nothing. He didn't scold him, threaten punishment, or order him to do anything. The guy was physically stronger, and could easily put Kieren where he wanted him, no matter how much Kieren might struggle. But he didn't. Instead, he kept quiet and turned away, tugging off his own clothing. He simply said Kieren could go back to the slave quarters if he wanted, and slid beneath the thin sheet on the bed.  
  
Kieren went.  
  
-  
  
Each day was more or less the same. He woke at the same time as the other slaves, although didn't have to help preparing any of the food, and went to the workshop with Rick, where he was used for whatever fetching and carrying Rick - and often his father - could think of. It didn't matter how many people were working at any one time in the workshop to create the elaborate furniture that was obviously intended for the much wealthier citizens of the city, Kieren stayed as close to Rick as he could. He hated being owned, and he hated the physical labour that he was unused to and almost too weak to do, but he knew it could be worse in so many ways. He worked in shade, even if it was hot; Rick regularly passed him pieces of bread when he had some; the meals he was given at the house were more generous than he'd been given before he'd been sold; and every night when Rick took him upstairs, Kieren could turn him down and know he wouldn't be punished or forced to stay. He'd expected Rick to finally snap and hit him or take him by force, but the day never came. Kieren never agreed to lie with Rick, but he had started waiting long enough to make it less obvious that nothing was happening between them. It was clear that Rick's choice in purchase still disappointed his father, who seemed like the kind of man who never let anything go. Rick's father, Kieren hated. Rick's mother, Kieren was indifferent to. Rick himself... He wanted to hate Rick for treating him so well, because he needed to hate someone for the situation he was in, and it was Rick who owned him. It didn't matter how well he was treated, he was still property.  
  
Property that got at least one day off a week. When Rick wasn't working, he left Kieren to his own devices. Eventually the days were used for relaxing, rather than just coping with the aches that continual physical labour left him with. It was still nowhere near the kind of work Rick did himself, and Kieren could understand why Rick's dad had been annoyed: Rick had bought a mostly-starved, scowling scrap of a young man, when he could have spent his money on an attractive young woman who was far less likely to object to his advances, and would have been of use around the house (although they did already have three house slaves). Kieren hadn't really had any positive traits that could have been listed about him at the time of sale (and didn't have anything going for him even now), but there was one thing he'd not mentioned or allowed his seller to discover about him. Using his relative freedom to spend time watching other craftsmen and jewellers who worked in the same area as they did, Kieren found himself missing being able to create something with his hands. Eventually, he'd just come right out and asked Rick if he could have some parchment and charcoal, but Rick had shaken his head apologetically and explained he didn't have any money to spare. It seemed that, while he had his own coin to buy Kieren, Rick's dad forbade him from spending anything further on him, other than the money Rick gave his dad towards the food Kieren ate. Rick was still being made to pay for his choice. Kieren supposed he'd been noticing something slightly off about the relationship between father and son for a while, but it was that explanation of his father's control over his own money that made Kieren sit down and directly compare Rick's life to his own. Oh, the guy had it infinitely better - he could come and go as he pleased, wear what he wanted, afford shoes and treat himself to fruit from the market - but he was still trapped: he was still there to serve someone else's purpose. After that, Kieren found it hard not to feel a flicker of sympathy every time Rick's dad demanded something of Rick, and the guy agreed with minimal fuss or input (usually none), and did it.  
  
-  
  
Initially, Kieren had been taken upstairs every night. Gradually, it became just six nights a week; then five; then four. By the time it was just three nights a week, Kieren was used to the occasional attempts Rick made to kiss him, and he turned away habitually, until, one night, he didn't. He wasn't sure what made him meet the touch he'd spent so long denying, and wondered who was more surprised by his acceptance of the advance - himself or Rick. Perhaps it was self-preservation, Kieren thought, remembering overhearing Rick's dad talking about how Rick had gradually become less and less interested in Kieren, and how they'd get a better price for him now, if they could persuade Rick to sell him - the months of work had done him good: he was physically fitter and looked healthier. Or maybe Kieren accepted the kiss because he'd started feeling sorry for the guy, whose father seemed to treat him with less regard than Rick showed his own slave. Maybe he felt guilty, or pitied him for the way he always seemed so alone, and the flicker of pain Kieren would always see whenever he turned Rick's advances down.  
  
Or, he thought as they both froze in shock and slowly moved back to try and take in what had just happened, maybe it was because when Kieren watched Rick work he was imagining those hands smoothing over his own skin, rather than expensive timber. Maybe it was because he saw only kindness when Rick looked at him, and he wanted to see if it would translate into touch. There was always such care and attention on Rick's handsome features while he worked, and Kieren wanted to know what it would feel like to be the object of such focus and devotion. He wanted to feel strong arms around him, and each night when he turned Rick down and returned to his simple bed in the servant's quarters, it wasn't the thought of the comfortable bed but the thought of the man that occupied it that made him ache and feel so cold and alone. He wanted Rick.  
  
Kieren found that allowing Rick to have him was everything he thought he'd wanted, and more. Rick had looked so stunned and almost afraid as he tentatively leant in towards Kieren again, expecting to find Kieren turning away as always. But he didn't - he met the kiss gratefully, sighing in relief at the contact. Rick's hands were more calloused than his own and could never really be described as soft, but they brushed so tenderly over Kieren's skin he almost shivered under the touch. Rick was never forceful or demanding, despite the overwhelming desire that had always been there beneath the surface, which Kieren could feel rolling off of him in waves - a desire he found himself reciprocating. He hadn't stopped the attempts to tug off his clothes, gladly helping Rick with his own as they moved towards the bed, still kissing. To be the object of so much desire was intoxicating, and although he might have hated himself for it later, Kieren wouldn't have objected to being taken against the wall, or while roughly bent over the bed.  
  
Rick didn't do that, though. His touches were firm but gentle, and he took what Kieren was willing to give, never demanding more. Pulling them both onto a bed that was so soft Kieren wondered if he was sinking, Rick simply held Kieren close, moving their bodies together until they both found release, gasping and panting against each other's lips in a kiss that never truly broke. Kieren had expected Rick to fuck him, but this... He hadn't even known it was possible to feel this way. Caught between the warm weight of Rick's body and the softness of the bed below, he'd refused to let go, and Rick hadn't moved either, despite the sweat that must have prickled his skin as it dried and the mess between their bodies. He let Kieren lift a hand to explore his face, his warm hazel eyes meeting Kieren's in an open gaze, a small smile tugging Rick's lips as Kieren's fingers tracing over the features he'd learnt so well by sight, and now wanted to learn by touch too. Kieren just had to tilt his chin in askance and Rick would kiss him. He just had to run his other hand over Rick's back and Rick would press closer to him.  
  
Even though they were spent, and it didn't take long for both of them to want more. This time, Kieren let Rick enter him, parting his legs and opening himself up, offering his body to Rick completely. And fuck, it hurt. He wouldn't stop for anything though. Somehow it felt right. He trusted Rick, and as he grit through the pain, it became worth it. The pain gave way to pleasure, and as Kieren openly let his enjoyment show Rick's touches became bolder, although they were still as gentle and tender as before, brushing over Kieren's body and caressing his face with his lips as well as his fingers. Rick was drinking in the sight and the touches and the sounds Kieren was making beneath him, just as much as Kieren was committing everything about this moment to memory. He felt like the most beautiful, loved creature in all the world, and as Rick drew closer to completion and made to pull out, Kieren stopped him, hooking his legs tightly around Rick's thighs. _No, inside me_ , he insisted, watching in pleasure and amazement as his words undid the man above him.  
  
It was hard to remind himself that he was a slave. Wrapped in Rick's arms, Kieren felt wanted. He felt equal, and in the morning when he woke to Rick stirring beside him, he found he hadn't lost his right to say 'no' either - Rick even apologised with careful kisses for the discomfort he'd caused.  
  
-  
  
Any fear that Kieren had about being cast aside once Rick had taken what he wanted dissipated. He found himself allowing small touches he'd shied away from before, finding that they comforted him and reassured him that he was still wanted and desirable. He also found that, as long as no one was looking, he was free to touch Rick too. He could touch his face, or tug him closer and even kiss him, and Rick's whole mood would change, brightening with happiness or electrifying with desire. Kieren realised that Rick was comforted by his touches, and having that power maybe wasn't much, but it was enough to make a difference to Kieren - he wasn't just a possession, he could reach out to Rick as a person.  
  
Work became even more bearable. Kieren found himself fetching things and passing tools without Rick even having to ask for them. It made the day brighter when their fingers brushed and lingered a second longer than they needed to, or when Rick met his eyes across the workshop and smiled warmly at him.  
  
At night, Kieren was always free to choose where he slept, but every night he stayed with Rick.  
  
-  
  
Eventually, he knew this would end. Even though the closeness between them was more than just physical, Kieren knew this wouldn't last. It couldn't. He was a slave, Rick was a Roman. They couldn't be friends; they couldn't be lovers. Rick would get bored of him, and was going to have to marry some day soon anyway. Everything was going to fall apart, and Kieren was going to lose that warmth and comfort he'd somehow found himself needing in order to breathe. He'd given himself to Rick completely. They had opened up to each other, and it had made the bond that had sprung up between them even stronger - a bond Kieren knew should never have existed, but now that it did, he didn't want to live without it. It was going to hurt too much when it was broken, because his heart was no longer his own: when Rick got rid of him, it would be torn, still beating, from his chest. He should stop caring. He should withdraw and try to heal the painful wound he could already feel forming, before it was made any bigger. He knew he should shut down his emotions before it was too late, but he just couldn't.  
  
Even a year later, when Rick's cousin married but there were no plans for Rick to do the same, Kieren still told himself there couldn't be a happy ending. He might be learning more of the trade now, and even painting - something he'd always been good at but hadn't cared to let anyone know when he was sold as a slave - but he still knew his days were numbered. Rick would grow tired of the paths he traced over Kieren's body, wearing them through until they held no more interest to him but were etched on Kieren's soul. Someone else would catch Rick's attention. Someone else would take Kieren's place in his life, by his side and in his bed.  
  
Another year later, when Rick had a nephew and hadn't once listened to his dad's talk of finding a wife, Kieren still knew it had to come. One day soon. Any time now. It wasn't love Rick felt, no matter how much he insisted it was, or how much Kieren believed him when Rick showed him with endless words and actions. Even though they still spent every night together, this wasn't forever. Kieren knew Rick couldn't keep the promises he'd made to never let go of Kieren, and to never stop loving him. Rick would eventually give in to what his dad wanted and marry a bride of his choosing, and then sell Kieren. For a profit. That, or keep him to work in the workshop and maybe warm Rick's bed whenever the mood struck. Kieren couldn't decide which of the two fates sounded worse.  
  
If Kieren hadn't learnt all he could from Rick in an attempt to make himself as invaluable as possible, he knew Rick's dad would have found a way to be rid of him by now - Kieren was at least cheaper than an apprentice or the time it would take to find and train a new slave. But the old man was sickening, and Kieren worried more and more that Rick would give in to what his father wanted and marry just to appease him. The disharmony between them clearly upset Rick, and Kieren didn't need to hear the words to know what it was that made Rick cling so tightly to him, seeking comfort, the nights after his father brought the subject up. Kieren knew that Rick's dad was right though - Rick belonged in the arms of some Roman woman, not in the arms of a slave, and that was all Kieren could ever be.  
  
Even when Rick's dad died two years later, and Rick and his cousin took over the workshop, Kieren was still reminding himself of his place: he was just some slave, and more stupid than the next, because he'd given his heart to the man who would one day throw him aside.  
  
It was only when leaving the praetor's chambers, the gust of breath still tickling his cheek, that it dawned on him what had just happened, and what  _could_  happen. Rick was by his side, smiling at Kieren so brightly he had to pause to catch his breath. Kieren had spent years as Rick's property, belonging to him. In the eyes of the law he hadn't even been a person but, despite that, Rick had always said he loved Kieren as an equal. And now... now that really could be true. Kieren was no longer a slave hoping for his owner's attention for as long as it would last and having no say in the matter - he was a free man turning to another and deciding that he was going to spend the rest of his life with him.

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't do it justice, but I absolutely love this AU, and I hope someone somewhere liked it too. Thank you for reading <3


End file.
